Labyrinth of the Mad
by Vel Vitrum
Summary: There are three paths in which one can take in order to survive. Weapon: giving up your will. Human: giving up your pride. Monster: giving up your freedom. In a world where a new species causes fear and tragedy, a little girl finds comfort in a group of terrorists. One in which she discovers the secrets of her kind.
1. Prologue

**XXX+ Labyrinth of the Mad +XXX**

* * *

_**...Again...**_

_**"**_**L_e_t _m_e _t_e_l_l_ y__o_u _a_ s_t_o_r_y. I_t_'s n_o_t_ q_u_i_t_e _a_ f_a_i_r_y _t_a_l_e_****."_ -Unknown_**

* * *

It was everywhere.

An ugly sight.

Unbearable and sickening. One single step and he would be walking on a corpse. What made things worse was that he knew whose corpse this was.

Fingers severely cut off.

His hand fell from his face, almost like a doll's arm falling back. His face was pale, but no one could notice under the dim light. In fact, the light made the sight look even worse. It made the room look so...vindictive.

Arms drenched with deep lines of red.

Why? He asked himself. How...? This wasn't supposed to happen. Not again. He didn't wait just for this. The punishment this time was too extreme, too drastic. He was so close. Where did he go wrong?

Leg halfway from being completely torn.

It was all over. It acted like paint, pasted on the walls as if it was a taunting decoration. He saw her face, as well as the rest of her body. It was almost unrecognizable. The monster who did this didn't even give her the chance to close her eyes. The terrified eyes that looked back at him. They accused him, as if asking him, why? Why didn't he keep his promise? Why wasn't he by her side? Didn't he say he was going to be by her side?

A hand embedded into the wall.

The truth was that he actually _was_ by her side. He just didn't focus enough. He wasn't concentrated on the real enemy. He lost sight of himself...again.

It was all a failure.

But where did it all go wrong?

Was it the injection? Was the heart too forceful on her? Could her body actually handle it?

Was she lying when she said it didn't hurt?

No...None of that was right…

"Len," A monotone voice echoed, snapping him out of his reverie. He would have almost attacked the person if it wasn't for him realizing two dreadful things.

The voice belonged to his most loyal friend. The most sickening part was that he was about to kill her, about to become an insane murderer and traitor.

The second thing...

"How long are you going to stain your hand in that thing?"

Instantly, he removed his hand from the inside of the monster's throat. Blood spurted right at his cheek, sticking to his skin like glue. He didn't bother to rub it off. That warm feeling caused a satisfaction within him.

It was disgusting.

The brown eyes of the monster used to resemble the eyes of a little girl. Dark brown hair, innocent smile, barcode on her forearm. The only issue was the look in her eyes and the blood decorating her skin and white dress. That was the problem. It was this _thing _that brought this upon him. He turned his gaze towards the corpse in front of him. Her eyes were still open.

That was the only thing in his mind as he took a step forward, away from the monster, away from his loyal companion. The splashes beneath his feet made his stomach churn. He should be used to this, as this has happened so many times. But he couldn't convince himself. When he looked down, a void was created. He would never get used to this, no matter how many times the scene replayed, he wouldn't ever forget this.

He was walking on her blood.

He was nearing her, and in this close proximity, he could see the tear tracks on her face. His fingers almost flinched when he touched her. Maybe it was because he thought she would wake up any minute and give another smile. Or maybe it was because her skin was colder and paler, wet with the mixture of her blood and tears.

He gently slid her eyelids down, a goodbye never crossing his mind. He stayed in that kneeled position until his companion spoke once more.

"Enough is enough."

He abruptly stood up, turning to get out of the room with the stench of blood. The woman turned her head towards him, seeing his form through the threshold of the door.

"What you're doing will only hurt more."

The warning has fallen on deaf ears.

The urges were far too great to resist.

He had to do it again.

* * *

**"T_h_i_s _s_t_o_r_y, y_o_u _s_e_e, d_o_e_s_n'_t _h_a_v_e _a_ h_a_p_p_y _e_n_d_i_ng. _I_t_'s_ a_l_l _a_b_o_u_t _A_l_i_c_e _a_n_d _h_e_r_ b_e_a_u_t_i_f_u_l _y_e_t _d_e_a_d_l_y_ l_i_t_t_l_e _v_e_i_l." -Unknown_**


	2. Lesson I

**Disclaimer**: This story is inspired by everything that I've seen, read, or heard of [*Including: books, anime, movies, songs, people, and history] But this is all _fiction_, hence why this is on this site. All ideas do not belong to me. Vocaloid does not belong to me. However, the plot is purely mine.

*Spot the references ;)

**Warnings: **This story will carry future mature themes, however I will warn my readers when that chapter comes. If they are not comfortable with gore, as seen with the prologue, please read another story because this will be full of it. Another warning will be that this story is not _completely_ centered around Vocaloid. This is a crossover of Original characters/world AND Vocaloid. Please keep in mind that it's not based on an OC, it will _contain_ OCs. Big difference.

* * *

**XXX+ Lesson I +XXX**

"**N**_**o**_**w**_** A**_**l**_**i**_**c**_**e … **_**A**_**l**_**i**_**c**_**e w**_**a**_**s**_**n**_**'t **_**a**_**n **_**o**_**r**_**d**_**i**_**na**_**r**_**y **_**g**_**i**_**r**_**l.**_**" –****Unknown**

* * *

"She isn't normal."

The woman behind the desk sighed and gathered the papers, already used to this routine. She was about to speak when the door opened and creaked in an eerie way. The three adults simultaneously turned towards the intruder, stiffening when they saw a little girl peek in the room with her big violet eyes.

She was about ten years old, a typical age for the children in the orphanage. It was too bad she was going to be one of them again, but at the same time the woman couldn't care less. The girl asked for it, proof given by the amount of papers and the words written in each and every one.

What a shame, the woman thought. She was adorable. The strands of her short colorless hair were held together by tiny pink ribbons, her round face giving her the most innocent look.

But perhaps 'innocent' wasn't the right word to say or rather think by the reports her current foster parents wrote.

"Um, Yukari, sweetie," The foster-mother started with sweat damp on her forehead, "This is a talk between adults so can you give us some 'adult' time?"

The woman raised an eyebrow.

Adult time was more like therapy.

"Okay!" The little girl beamed and hesitated when she closed the door. If the woman didn't know any better, she would've thought she gave a secret glare at the duo. But that wasn't possible, Yukari wasn't one to bear hatred at anyone. If anything, she was an angel at the orphanage.

Then again, the reports tell another story.

"We want to return her as soon as possible." The man declared, his back stiff and rigid on the chair.

She didn't give any pause when she answered back, "This isn't a toy store, Moto-san."

The mother slammed her hands on the desk, but the woman didn't even blink. "Look, we're going to be as blunt as possible. That girl is not normal. There is something wrong with her, and I'd rather not have a psychopath near my _only_ child!"

The woman behind the desk merely flipped a page. "And this has _nothing_ to do with our type of orphanage? Nothing to do with the bloodline of _half_ of these children?"

There was doubt in the woman's eyes when the mother didn't respond. That reaction was all she needed.

"We _know_ what kind of orphanage this is. We _know_." The father played with his fingers. "We _tried_ to look past that. But – but how can we when she's acting like that."

Those type of people were always shallow. It was bound to happen and be said. If there was one of them, mainly the first, that caused the most trouble, they would just assume that _all_ of them were the same troublemakers.

Because they believed that 'they' were an exception.

But the woman didn't say anything. She's said the same lines so many times that it wouldn't make a difference anymore.

"Never stops smiling, doesn't raise her voice, doesn't make a tantrum, always does her chores, never disobeys." The woman read out loud until she made her point. "Your words: 'We believe she is bottling up her emotions and might become unable to do so at some breaking point.' Translation," She offered with a tone of closure. "She's too sweet and perfect that it's creepy."

The mother was outraged. "That's not it at all! Do you realize what she's done?! What I've seen her do to my child while we were _asleep_?! Understand that this isn't just an acc–"

"Please restrain your wife, Moto-san. Or I'm afraid that I'll have to call security."

He looked like he wanted to say something but thought about it and decided that it wasn't the right thing to say, so he complied without complaint.

"Stop it! Let me go, Takeda!" She tried in vain to shrug off his hands off her shoulders, "Say something! Don't make me look crazy!"

The woman behind the desk looked at him expectantly, "Any comments?"

He waited for his wife to calm down and when she did, he struggled to let the words out.

"There was one time when she did something in the middle of the night."

This time the woman was paying close attention.

"She got up from her bed, and I thought she just wanted to go to the bathroom or come to our room like our son does every once in a while. Thought she was going to get a drink when she went to the kitchen too but she didn't do anything for a while, just stare at the wall – our son's side of the room. And she started humming a song. Have you ever heard of that song?" He asked his wife.

She only stared at the ground with wide eyes.

"_Mommy, do you want to play?"_

"You recorded it?" The woman asked in disbelief.

He ignored the question, "She walked down the halls and to the kitchen. She stopped by the sink where the utensils are and you can guess what happened from there."

"Can we just go now?" The mother asked. "I want to go back to my son. I don't want to leave him alone."

Ironic when she basically ditched the other one.

"Very well. I assume we won't ever see you here again?"

They both nodded with strained expressions of determination. When they were both out of earshot, the woman sat back down with a tired sigh.

She leaned forward and rested her head on folded arms, going through the high stack of papers in the corner of her desk. One by one she could see the same name typed or written over and over followed by requests of abandoning the foster care system because of the child, although there are some rare cases where they just want to stop having 'her' specifically.

"Oh Yukari," She breathed out, raking her blonde hair in exasperation.

The door creaked open.

"What am I going to do with you?"

* * *

The blonde woman behind the desk looked up from her paperwork and tensed when a familiar face of the past invaded her sight.

"Shion-san? What an unexpected surprise."

The man in front of her desk nodded curtly but didn't greet her or give any welcome expression. The woman wasn't offended. He always was a man of few words.

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"

"Oliver." His voice was raspy as if he rarely used it. But the woman couldn't help but to be entranced at the pitch. If he were human, there is no doubt he would gain some followers of his own. Women would be puppies around him.

But he wasn't human.

A blonde boy stood up from the corner of the room and she almost jumped when his silhouette moved.

The blonde woman inspected the boy clinging to the man's legs, almost like a lost son, she mused. He was another cute one. All of them in this orphanage had good looks. Nothing disgusting or snobby like the children with homes. He would fit right in.

Her nose scrunched at his smell but she didn't turn away. His ragged clothes suggest that he lived in the dumpsters. That wasn't new. What _was_ new were the bandages covering his left eye.

She wondered about _his_ tragedy.

"Don't cling to me." Shion ordered with cold indifference. The woman didn't understand his attitude. The man was an enigma. She wished she could read the man's thoughts, but at the same time, she knew that it wasn't her place nor was she sane enough to bear the man's burdens.

"Watch over him." Shion said, leaving the boy to stand alone.

At that moment, the woman frowned.

"And remember what I said when I first came here."

She nodded and let him leave the room despite the lingering questions planting in her head. She stared at the injured boy, preparing to write out his basic information and scoot over to the edge of her chair.

"Oliver," The boy looked up. "Come sit with me."

He was cute, yes, but the look in his eyes was something that should be thought over. They weren't eyes of a child. They weren't eyes of a human. The golden color didn't matter, only the emotion within them.

Right now, there was none.

As she talked to the boy with the voice of a mother, she let the secrets in her memory unfold and remembered the man's words.

The image of the little girl brought a smile in her lips.

It seems she wasn't the only one who thought Yukari was different.

_"She is worth so much more."_

Oliver could only stare as he spotted a pair of envious violet eyes looking through the window.

* * *

"How old is she again?"

The woman behind the desk wished she could slam her head on the desk, but she could only settle with the force she set on when she closed her book.

"Ten and a half, sir."

The man in front of her was what one call a soldier, or for the lack of a better term, a samurai of some kind. One of those men who owned a dojo at least. He wasn't incredibly buff, but he wasn't exactly flimsy either. In fact, the scar on his cheek would say otherwise.

It was a surprise to know that he would involve himself in foster care.

"You know, I've seen this in a horror movie before."

At this, the blonde woman raised an eyebrow to show her curiosity. She always thought this would come one day. To make a comparison between Yukari and a horror movie was bound to happen. She just never thought it would come from this tough foster-father.

This ought to be good.

He tapped his chin with a finger, recollecting his memory. "It was a movie I saw in America, one of those that make you think that it actually _can _happen. It was about an orphan, I believe around Yukari's age and she did some atrocious things. Burn things, injure kids around her age, attempted murder, you know, things like that."

The blonde couldn't help but to silently scoff at the idea he was letting on.

"Turns out she just had an, um, condition that wouldn't allow her body to grow. She was a prostitute with mental problems. It's very unexpected until you see the end but you get my drift."

It was silent between the two, mainly because of the man's mini rant about a horror movie and the urge to swallow another laugh. It was amazing what explanations Yukari's foster parents came up with. All of them were so unique.

Just like the girl herself.

"Okazaki-san," She set her book down, interlaced her hands, and finally sat up, slightly leaning forward and giving the samurai an unamused look. "Are you suggesting that Yukari is not a child?"

Cue the awkward silence.

She had to mentally thank the girl for appearing (purposely she bets) in the room and making the man narrow his eyes at her in suspicion. The blonde was sure that he knew of her intentional disruptions.

"Not a child, huh?" The blonde woman mumbled beneath her breath.

The little girl was even cuter than last time. Her ribbons were still placed but they were sturdier than usual, dark too. Her hair grew much longer, reaching mid-back just by her low pigtails. The miniature version of a dojo uniform just made her all the more huggable.

"Father-san," She called in a small voice. The blonde almost forgot about her tendencies to call her foster parents that way. She never called them in the proper way a child would. That was just one of Yukari's coping quirks though, nothing strange about that.

Apparently it was one of the excuses of many foster parents.

It still amused the blonde to no end.

"Do you want me to–" Innocent, violet eyes met mature, hazel eyes. The little girl bowed to the blonde in a proper warrior way.

"Good afternoon, Brunhilda."

How cute.

Most foster parents, or even just regular parents, would be proud to have a daughter that can learn her manners as eloquent and quickly as Yukari.

The troubled expression on the man's face said otherwise.

"Not now, Yukari!" The man barked, "We're having a man to m – _woman_ conversation!"

Said girl stood up straight and bowed once more. "Yes, sir! I shall take my leave, sir!"

Soldier indeed, the blonde hummed as Yukari basically marched to the door and out.

She heavily exhaled when the door closed, looking through his report once more though this time with an actual inspection.

It was more habit than work when she read the problems with Yukari out loud, making the man sure of his lack of mistakes or not.

"Injuries during practice, none of them self harm, all of them towards other students/apprentices, damages on property, threatening/intimidation, unnecessary violence, and the burning of belongings both hers and of others."

She flipped a page and a couple more to see the damages and bills she had caused.

Ah, budget was going to be short these two months.

She didn't let him see her distress. "So where's your closure?"

It was the man's turn to raise an eyebrow. "It speaks for itself. She is too destructive and clearly not disciplined."

"Okazaki-san, it sounds to me that she is going through a rebellious stage and if not, one that makes her unable to control her full strength. Clearly it is your job as the foster parent to nurture her."

"You don't understand, Brunhilda-san," There they are again. Those repeated lines of every foster parent. "Yukari purposely does this. One time she tried to break a man's arm twice her size just for insulting her. Surely that is not normal for a ten-year-old girl."

Brunhilda didn't even bother to correct the man about her age. He did have her there. After all, no one would want to take care of a child that can kill you just for an insult.

Well, he signed his papers, and she officially talked to him. Now she just wanted to say one more thing to end this tiring conversation.

"And this is not because of the kind of orphanage this is? This has nothing to do with the bloodline _half_ of these children carry?"

Somehow, Brunhilda already knew the answer before the man spoke.

He gave direct eye contact, and she had to respect him for answering truthfully, even if she knew that she would not like the next words she heard.

"I'm sorry, Brunhilda-san."

She already stamped the papers for his abandonment of the foster care system, giving a pitying glance at the door.

"I don't want to have anything to do with Nefas ever again."

* * *

Nefas.

What a pitiful species.

Created by an unknown source, a god perhaps, but really they were seen as spawn of the devil.

Brunhilda never understood why they were seen that way. It was in her blood to see the obvious and the obvious was right there in front of everyone's faces.

"Something is wrong with this world."

"Huh?"

She was surprised and she silently scolded herself for letting her thoughts slip. She didn't want any of them to know what she was thinking, else these innocent children be corrupted too.

"Nothing, Mikuo, just eat your supper."

The teal haired boy looked at her strangely, but he shrugged it off in favor of food. Soon he was included in the many conversations of the table. A table, unfortunately, not big enough to hold the entire orphanage. Some of them waited until the first row were gone, others insisted in having a 'picnic' just to ease their starving stomachs.

But they all had something in common, something that made thirty-year-old Brunhilda smile in content and in hidden sadness.

They didn't separate in groups. They didn't care about the strange colored hair in their peers' heads. They didn't care about the abnormality of half of their big family.

They were all the same, and that's the way it should be.

"Brunhilda," A blonde boy called.

The woman bent down and fondly smiled at the newcomer, "What is it, Oliver?"

"Could you replace my bandages again? Yukari ruined them."

Said girl stomped her foot, food ignored, "You wish!"

"Yukari." Brunhilda warned.

"What–he–that wasn't–oh that's just not fair!"

Brunhilda laughed at the frustrated look on the girl's face.

"Brunhilda!" She whined. "He fell by himself!"

"You tackled me!"

She puffed her cheeks. "Lightly."

"That wasn't lightly!"

"You're just weak, Oliver. Grow some muscle."

Oliver pouted and clung to Brunhilda's legs. "At least, I'm not mistaken as a guy with long hair."

Yukari blushed in embarrassment, cheeks flushing when the other kids cheered. "Sh–shut up! That was only one time!"

"There, there, Yukari just has more strength. But Oliver you have your cute points too."

"Brunhilda, you're supposed to be cheering _me_ up! I just got insulted!" She feigned betrayal.

"Yes, yes, Yukari. We all deserve to be comforted, but that's not _my_ job~" She winked as she left, leaving the hooting to the kids.

Yes, innocent little Yukari had a crush on a certain Nefa. He had one of the infamous traits of one, sadly, the pink hair on his head said it all. The beanie he wore wouldn't make such a difference but he insisted on wearing it in fear that he would reveal something worse on his head.

Brunhilda wished she didn't know.

She decided to abandon all thoughts of their misfortune and satisfy herself with the aspect of cooties and the "love life" involving Yukari.

"What do you mean pink hair is stupid?! Don't insult my beloved!"

And the kids were doing a pretty damn good job at teasing the troublemaker, judging by the rise of her temper.

Oliver tugged on her black dress, "Aren't you worried that Yukari will hurt them?"

Understanding his curiosity, Brunhilda reassured him with a squeeze of her hand. "Yukari will never do that. We're her family so she knows her limits."

"But then why does she harm the other adults?"

Brunhilda was more than a little surprised by his question. "You know?"

He nodded and winced a bit when Brunhilda removed the bandages from his left eye, tightly closing it shut.

The blonde paused before she gathered new bandages.

"She has a habit of showing too much affection." She explained, giving a wary smile.

She finished before he could ask any more questions. The day was almost ending too, so their bed times were up. Oliver already knew of their schedule and Brunhilda hoped he would get used to it soon. Hopefully, he'll like it here as much as the other children.

There was still this disturbing vibe that came from the boy though. It nearly made Brunhilda suspicious of the little boy, making her disgusted at herself.

But she couldn't help but to feel that this feeling was … right.

Oliver knew about the trouble Yukari caused for her foster parents. Not only that, but he knew that she caused _harm_ to them, not just typical child issues.

Strange.

The orphans weren't supposed to know about this information. They were all private unless told by themselves. And Brunhilda knew that Yukari would rather keep herself mysterious. It was just one of her quirks.

Oliver had just arrived recently, at most a month. Everything from his dirty sailor clothes to the bandages on his left eye.

He was a shy little Nefa who didn't know anyone from the orphanage. It was expected.

She wondered how he knew about Yukari though.

Brunhilda also thought that he wasn't the type to eavesdrop on others. It goes to show that you shouldn't judge by appearance.

Brunhilda left her inner wariness and set off to guide the kids to bed. It was a school night so they shouldn't be up this late. Not even Yukari was against her exhaustion.

Little did she know that she was being followed.

* * *

"Where in the world does she _learn_ this–this–this perversion?"

The woman behind the desk, Brunhilda, wanted to make the old woman read her own reports. Every note she took made her either feel incredibly embarrassed or so bewildered that she had to read it many times to understand it.

All in all, she believed this is the worst report Yukari ever made someone write.

"I'm–I'm sure there's an explanation for this. They say that children are highly influenced by their surroundings."

That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

The old woman in front of her looked appalled. "Brunhilda-san, are you implying that my estate… No! I can not tolerate this! I can not bear to hear this! This is–"

The butler provided a drink to help the rich old woman calm down.

After she gracefully took a sip and lightly tapped her lips with a handkerchief, she gave Brunhilda a stern glare.

"My apologies, Shimizu-san–_sama_!" Boy, was she stuttering a lot today. She believed that no one can fully make this old woman satisfied. It was a wonder that Yukari survived with her for 2 weeks. Even more–this was the most someone could take her in for! What kind of bizarreness was this?! "But this could be some sort of misunderstanding! Maybe there is this tiny possibility that someone is framing her or making her do this? There are some nasty people out there wishing for your grateful amount of wealth you have..."

This was not turning out so well.

The old woman sniffed in indignation.

"That child can not be in my property. She is hereby banned from my island." Brunhilda paled. She owned an island? How rich was this woman?! "Honestly, I didn't expect much, but this?" She horridly gestured to the reports. "This does not even meet the standards of the poor!"

Brunhilda winced.

"Ron! Ron, fetch my glasses!" She ordered. The butler quickly went to action and handed her the needed spectacles. When he lowered himself to give her a pen, Brunhelda noticed something about the blue-eyed, long-haired butler.

He was a Nefa too.

"What are you dilly dallying for? Where do I sign?"

Brunhilda broke from her reverie and a bit bashfully, gave her a patient smile.

"With all due respect, Shimizu-sama, we're not done yet."

Now she looked baffled, "What more is there to discuss? I just want to get rid of this insolent child!"

Brunhilda bit her tongue.

She tried to distract herself by doing the usual, but it only added more turmoil. "Destroyed expensive and rare property, indecency in front of high-class ranks, extreme invasion of personal space, indecent language, perversion, harassment, refuses to wear basic amount of clothing…oh dear."

The woman nodded with a knowing look. "In conclusion, this child is too perverted and indecent for our world. She has no place."

"Ma'am ... that's a bit much."

"Shut it, Ron. May I remind you where your place stands?"

Brunhilda placed a hand on her forehead, attempting to cool off. It wouldn't be good to ruin the already low reputation of this orphanage.

She tried again. "Shimizu-sama, can you elaborate?"

"Why I certainly can!" She agreed eagerly, almost similarly to a teenager gossiping. "She barely wears any clothing. The child has no shame. She wears a shirt that cuts off to her stomach! And very short skirts! It's almost as if she's asking for someone to take advantage of her. It lowers my reputation, not to mention the reputation of my islanders."

So it was only the clothes?

No, judging by the old woman's expression, she's not even close to finished.

"She kissed an admiral! She touched a lord! She exposed herself to many of my servants," At this Ron blushed. "All you need to know is that she's not needed anymore. If you want more evidence, read for yourself!" Ron provided a fan for the woman to cool herself off.

Brunhilda was tempted to ask for one too.

"Okay," She breathed. "Now before you sign–"

"Do not tell me there is more."

"Before you sign," Brunhilda gritted her teeth, "Answer me this. Does this have anything to do with what type of orphanage this is? Anything to do with the bloodline _half_ of these children carry?"

The woman didn't skip a beat as she scoffed, "Of course it does! I wouldn't waste my time if it wasn't this type of orphanage."

Brunhilda froze in her typing.

Was she hearing right?

Could someone out there actually be like her? Someone who can see the obvious and terrible line that walls between the two species. Someone who wanted to make a difference?

Her heart felt lighter, smile forming into an irresistible grin.

Was this real?

"These good for nothing children _have_ to be useful for something, don't they?"

Her smile dropped instantly.

No.

No, of course it wasn't real.

"I mean, Nefas. They are Nefas, right? Terrible creatures, filthy little beings. They don't exist in my mind, nor do they stand on the same Earth as we do."

Her fingers curled into trembling fists, tightening until her knuckles turned white. She wanted this woman to stop. She wanted to stop her blindness, her spoiled lips to stop talking that way.

"Look at Ron here! He may be a butler, but he's not even qualified to serve a cockroach!"

How many of these people starved because of their blood? How many of them died of either _murder_ or oppression? How many while this woman _spoiled_ herself in a sheltered haven of her own?

She shaded her eyes and willed herself to calm down. One woman couldn't make a difference. She couldn't _do_ anything no matter how much she tried. There were too many voices, too much hate. Brunhilda was only human. But no one saw the orphans in the streets in the same light.

She tried to hold in her anger, _tried_ to reason herself that the sweet girl behind the door wasn't worth the lives of a thousand orphans.

"If they aren't fit to serve us, they should all just die!"

But she couldn't.

"Please get out of my office."

The woman paused and gave her a menacing look full of scorn. "What was that, child?"

Brunhilda stood up. "I won't be polite this time, especially to someone such as yourself. Get out of my office. Get out of this building. I'll make sure to burn all of the papers that associate yourself to the foster care system."

The woman narrowed her eyes. "Do you realize–"

"I know who you are, nor do I care. Your attitude is despicable. You say that they are beneath cockroaches? Well, you are in an even worse position. You are scum, trash beneath my feet."

The butler hurried to help the woman out the door.

"How dare you?! What a wretched mouth! No wonder that girl is so ill minded!"

"Do not include Yukari into this!" Brunhilda opened the door and grabbed the girl behind it, hiding her away from the woman, away from the woman's words. "This girl does not deserve the words of someone so inhumane!"

"Inhumane?" The woman laughed and violently shrugged Ron's hands away, disgust in her face. "Inhumane." She repeated, cackling as she went out of the building. "Nefas aren't even _human_, you silly child."

Brunhilda knew what she going to say next, so she prepared to cover the girl's ears and wished that she had enough hands to cover the other's ears. But her first priority was Yukari because she…

She…

_She is worth so much more._

The girl fidgeted in her hold and Brunhilda looked down in horror when she realized her mistake.

"Oliver?"

Brunhilda's eyes widened in panic when she saw a familiar little girl stare at the door. Her usual beaming violet eyes dimmed a little and there was no trace of her adorable grin on her small lips.

It wasn't fair that her hair looked beautiful, tied up in high pigtails and curled at the ends near her hips. Her frilly purple dress glowed and she looked like she was playing cupid if it wasn't for the distraught look on her face.

It wasn't fair that she was dressed in her best clothing just to hear those horrible words.

"They're monsters!"

* * *

_...what's the lesson..._

* * *

**A/N: **Japanese honorifics are used like **-san **which is similar to Mr/Ms/Mrs. and **-sama **which is used to indicate extreme respect. This chapter is a bit slow but trust me when I say it _is_ important. I also did mention that this is a crossover between original characters and Vocaloid _for the plot. S_o be patient, my readers, the Shion family made little appearance today, but you'll see more later on ^.^ This is somewhat of a background but there is so much foreshadowing in this chapter. I wonder what goes on in your minds right now! What did you think of Yukari? What about the little teaser Shion here? :}

If you have any questions and/or pet peeves from this chapter or if you're just a _really awesome person to comment_ please review or PM me. I would very much appreciate it!


	3. Lesson II

**Disclaimer**: This story is inspired by everything that I've seen, read, or heard of [*Including: books, anime, movies, songs, people, and history] But this is all _fiction_, hence why this is on this site. All ideas do not belong to me. Vocaloid does not belong to me. However, the plot is purely mine.

*Spot the references ;)

**Warnings: **This story will carry future mature themes, however I will warn my readers when that chapter comes. If they are not comfortable with gore, as seen with the prologue, please read another story because this will be full of it. Another warning will be that this story is not _completely_ centered around Vocaloid. This is a crossover of Original characters/world AND Vocaloid. Please keep in mind that it's not based on an OC, it will _contain_ OCs. Big difference.

* * *

**XXX+ Lesson II +XXX**

**"_S_h_e _w_a_s_ a_s_ p_e_r_f_e_c_t _a_s _a_ d_o_l_l_." –_Unknown**

* * *

Fifth grade teachers.

What did they do?

In general what type of relationship were they supposed to have between them and their students?

Hiyama Kiyoteru, at that time, didn't really know how he was supposed to answer that question. He was sure that it wasn't supposed to be the case, because if that ever happened, then he really wasn't qualified to be a teacher.

But, what was he supposed to do? Teachers were supposed to guide their students, lead them step by step to the path of adulthood. The kids, as well as themselves, are supposed to be educated. Potential was waiting to be found and nurtured properly. Minds needed to be expanded. Thoughts are to never stray from the forbidden. To him the most important thing was to lead by example, give those watching eyes a hint of what was right from wrong.

Those violet eyes however, they weren't watching him.

They were too lost and too far to see him.

He almost found that ironic since the owner of those eyes was right in front of him.

Connection. That was the meaning of her name. Oddly enough, it didn't seem to fit her. She was a strange child, always acting out of place compared to the other children. Whereas the others stayed quiet as he taught, she always asked questions that at times, didn't even relate to the topic. Some would find that endearing; it was rare to see those kids that think outside the box, but what Hiyama didn't get was the response of her actions. _They_ didn't find it endearing. They didn't find it endearing at all. And this made Hiyama think twice about his role.

Was he unconsciously favoring her over the others?

Hiyama brushed the thought as soon as it came. That couldn't be it. Because he knew how strange she acted as well. Her "quirks" as her guardians put it, were glaringly obvious. They were all so different, and it went so far as to make the caretaker of the orphanage ask him to watch over her.

Everyone knew how protective Brunhilda was over the orphans. They were practically her children by now, so for her to suddenly ask him to be a counselor, this girl must have crossed the line.

"Yuki likes you, you know?"

Hiyama didn't know. He only met the girl a month ago, but she wasn't in his class. She was in one of the most advanced classes in the school whereas he was teaching the second ranked one. There was no other reason for her to have an interest in him in the first place.

"Just like how I like my beloved!"

Hiyama could've choked on his own spit by that statement. Of course, he's heard of that crush of hers. The other orphans wouldn't stop teasing her about it. The man straightened on the edge of his desk, raising an eyebrow at the albino girl. She never looked up from that drawing of hers since she's started talking.

"I don't really blame her though. You're not a bad looker!" She said with a grin.

"Yukari, we aren't here to talk over your friend," He firmly stated, speaking to her with a gentle tone. "We're here to talk about your actions in the past few days."

She paused for a second before scribbling on that piece of paper again.

"They say they caught you cheating."

"I didn't cheat." She mumbled.

"You disrespectfully threw a spitball at your teacher."

"She wouldn't listen."

"And you went over to the other side of the playground again."

The girl stopped her movements, lifting the corners of the paper and looking at her drawing with an intense gaze. He thought she was ignoring him when she spoke in the softest voice, "...it was what he wanted."

Hiyama didn't like how her eyes blinked hard as if holding something back. Her head was hung down in shame for a reason he didn't know of, and this made his disappointment waver at the sight.

"Who?" He asked, guilt gnawing at him. This was it, wasn't it? The favoritism that he shouldn't have, but what else was he feeling? Sympathy? Pride? Because when she answered, it started.

"My friend...it's his birthday."

He sighed, fixing his glasses as he got off his desk. "That side is ... it's not for kids like you."

"Why?" She innocently asked.

_'Why?__' _That's a very good question. A question that he wasn't supposed to answer, not yet, and he hoped that she wouldn't ever get the answer to.

'Because' was a start of an answer, so he went for something else. "You deserve better."

Her nose wrinkled cutely, but he didn't see anything else when she let her hair cover her face. She startled him when the chair suddenly screeched over the floor and when a small body tackled him around the waist, gripping tightly and never letting go.

"I think I know why she likes you." She said in a meek way, sniffling a little when her grip loosened. He looked down and saw her rub her nose a bit before clinging onto his shirt.

Teachers...what kind of relationship do they have between them and their students?

Hiyama Kiyoteru didn't know.

He just knew that when he patted her head, her tense shoulders relaxed. As if she was expecting rejection and disgust. As if she expected for him to yell at her for ruining his shirt.

As if this happened to her all the time.

All he knew was that fear wasn't supposed to be there.

* * *

"Boom."

The man raised an eyebrow, lifting his glasses with two fingers before giving another look to the eleven-year-old. She didn't seem to be aware of the glares she received as she looked out the window. The kids around her only stared at her strangely before shrugging it off. The adults in the back, however, seemed keen to the idea of burning a hole to the back of her head.

Hiyama sighed under his breath before clearing his throat to get their attention, grumbling when he still didn't get _her_ attention. He knocked on the chalkboard and called her out but all she did was glance at him and all of her attention was back on the window.

"Yukari-chan, I prefer your eyes focusing to the front of the class rather than outside."

The adults began to whisper among themselves, sparing a glance to the girl's direction every now and then. She threw an uninterested stare behind her shoulder before facing forward, not particularly facing the board. Instead, she stared at the boy's head in front of her.

"Yes, Hiyama-sensei."

The man nodded and pointed at the board. "Now, can you tell me the answer to this question?"

Yukari didn't answer. In fact, when he asked her the question, it looked as if she was not even present in his class. There was something in her eyes that made him panic on the inside. Her eyes gleamed, but it didn't look like she was about to cry.

He wasn't even sure if she heard him.

Yukari blinked and the look in her eyes disappeared along with it. She shook her head and rested her chin on the palm of her hand, completely ignoring the murmurs behind her.

"It doesn't matter."

Hiyama blinked at her response. The boy next to her seat nudged her with a scolding look. Yukari rolled her shoulders again, looking out the window.

"See? I told you..." One of the louder adults whispered to the other. Hiyama tried to drown out her voice by fixing his composure and letting the hand on the board fall back to his side.

"And why doesn't it matter?" He asked, all eyes now turning to the little girl who secretly smiled behind her hand.

"Silly, Sensei," She laughed, the sound smothered by her fingers. "History's all in the past. We should all just move on."

There were sounds of agreement from her classmates but there were also looks of disapproval from the adults. Hiyama almost wanted to groan and dismiss the class already, quitting because of this particular student and this _particular _day.

It was parents visiting day.

The time where all students were on their best behavior, either excited or embarrassed to have their parents in the same room as their peers. It was like examination day where his superiors were here to judge the entire school's appearance and evaluate their progress. Only instead of his superiors, it was the parents of his students, the very ones glaring and gossiping in the back of the room. They weren't subtle at all if Yukari's twitch didn't indicate something. Even he, himself, could hear her name come out of their mouths every minute or so.

Hiyama massaged his temple, growing frustrated by the second. He had to be calm. He couldn't just yell at them for being ignorant of the girl's feelings. That just wasn't how it was anymore. This wasn't some cheesy movie in which he rants about philosophical points where the person suddenly understands and changes for the better. These were real people.

This was reality.

So he ignored the whole situation, and for some reason, when he saw Yukari's neighbor giving her a worried glance, he felt that he wasn't the only one trying to do the same.

"History is where we learn from our past mistakes, Yukari-chan."

She stilled, eyes widening a bit before drooping back to its half lidded state. Her hand moved from its position and softly landed on the cool surface of her desk, eyes finally focusing on the teacher at front.

Of course, she should've expected her favorite teacher to answer back. Even on parents visiting day, there was no excuse. He just knew how to give her the answers she would seek while the others gave no reason to satisfy her. The look she had made his doubt perish in the most successful way.

Yukari was always easy to read. No matter what front she put on, she was only a child. A unique, almost prodigious child, but still a child. It's easy to forget sometimes that he was a teacher in an elementary school.

The corner of her lips twitched. "Everyone makes mistakes; that's what Brunhilda said to me."

"And she's right–"

"But what happens if that person _doesn't _learn from that mistake. What happens if they just keep doing it over and over again?"

The murmuring stopped and for sure, the obvious tension from the stares were all because of that little girl. Her curious peers, the same age as her, didn't really understand, but it was there. Their curiosities only piqued as usual since they always expected something from the cute girl. They always expected the same thing every day, in every class, with every teacher. The only difference was the extra spiteful looks from their reliable, lovable parents.

Hiyama knew that it wouldn't end just with that. Because Yukari was different, and everyone knew it. She might look like the typical foreign student in a Japanese fifth grade class, but she was on the exact same platform as the two other students in Class B.

Haine Lin, a girl with grey, almost silver, eyes and short black hair. She was looking at Yukari with something akin to amusement from the other side of the room. There were still a few glares directed at her but they were focused on Yukari as well. It was as if they were trying to keep both students in their watch, failing because of the distance.

Kasane Ted, a boy with red eyes and long red hair that was tied in a thin ponytail trailing on his back in curls. He was trying not to sleep, nodding off during the silence. Hiyama could almost see the dark half moons under his eyes, his glasses sliding down to reveal them. The teacher frowned. It looked like he was still getting struggling to get out of his depression. That wasn't good. Especially for a kid his age. At least, he received fewer glares than the girls.

In fact, some of the parents nodded in sick satisfaction when they looked in his direction. He sat in the very corner of the room, away from the students. The desk almost looked secluded compared to the rest.

Yes, all of them were on the same platform, whether they accepted it or not didn't matter. It was just something that they couldn't change even if they wanted to.

Because Class B wasn't the only one. Not even close.

At that moment, Hiyama didn't care about his actions. They were reckless, he knew they were, but it had to be said. Yukari was one that would surprise the others. She exaggerated every aspect of a child, something that other kids were now shy to do.

She was different.

And who was he to smother that potential from its fullest?

Hiyama smiled at the girl, her eyes expecting and her lips open in anticipation. He softened his gaze, completely contrasting the harsh ones from the adults in the back.

"Then that person would be a fool."

He expected the looks directed at him, the suspicious ones, the hateful ones, the disgusted ones, he accepted them all. Hiyama, though, he wasn't a child. He didn't take them personally like they did. He didn't cower under them like they did. He was an adult, a teacher who took care of his students even from the ones who already had their parents and guardians.

It was his duty to take care of them. And maybe, just maybe, that bright cheeky smile of hers wasn't part of the reason at all.

Yukari giggled again. "Boom, boom."

Her strange quirks though, was another thing entirely.

* * *

It wasn't even half a day when he was suddenly called to the principal's office.

How strange ... A teacher being called to the principal's office. He suddenly felt mischievous at the idea, but he already knew by the time he saw the man's face, that it wasn't the time to feel this way.

It never was in this period of time.

Maybe when he was already deceased will the world change. Maybe when he couldn't even see it for himself and already had to experience the tragedy of this world beforehand. It was for the better, he supposes, but there was still this resentment in his being as the woman sitting on one of the chairs turned around with an almost neutral expression on her face.

Almost neutral, but he could still see the underlying tension and contempt in those disapproving eyes of hers. Perhaps it was always like that. There were some people that couldn't help the expressions they showed no matter how they felt. Perhaps she was always scowling to the point where the expression glued to her face.

Perhaps.

But Hiyama knew that it wasn't the case.

The man straightened his posture even more, casting a charming smile at the two. He walked in with a regal atmosphere, sitting on the empty chair next to the woman and in front of the older man behind the intimidating desk.

"Hiyama-san," The older man addressed with a small smile, "Thank you for giving us your time, but I'm afraid that Hisamatsu-san here wants to give you her ... opinion."

If Hiyama wasn't an organized civil adult, he would've snorted at the understatement. He turned to the negative look of the parent, almost scrutinizing the resemblance between her and her son. Those shared blue eyes and black hair interfered on her son's complete resemblance to his father. If it wasn't for those features, he would've been a perfect carbon copy.

"I'm ... grateful to hear that. Is there any specific area that I'm lacking in? If so, I am pleased to be informed for the benefit of my students."

The woman scrunched her nose a bit before shaking her head. "No, it's more of a general area, if not, something that should have been considered since the beginning of the year. Hiyama-san, are you aware of the seating arrangements of the students in Class B?" She crossed her legs, leaning on the desk with a conflicted look. "Let me rephrase that. Are you aware of the seating arrangements of the school overall?"

"Yes," Hiyama said, knowing where this was all going. He glanced at the headmaster as if asking _him _the question. The older man smiled pleasantly and nodded, confirming that he knew of the seating arrangements. Of course what kind of headmaster would he be if he didn't check on his own school? "However, I've acquired little to no complaints concerning that. I assumed it was fine or did you have some personal reference?"

Her sharp blue eyes narrowed. "I'm sure you know of the three special students in Class B-5. Furthermore the special students honored to be in the same school as my child. What I'm concerned about is if you realize what you're doing is beyond the line. Knowing my son is in the same class as one of those _Nefas_ is one thing, but seeing them so close to him is dangerously close to offense against this nation itself. I want you to remove the position of that one, at least next to where her own kind should be."

"I'm assuming by 'that one,' you are referring to Yukari?" The woman twitched at the sound of her name. Hiyama turned to raise an eyebrow at the headmaster, deciding that he should intervene at some point. "Is it a crime to teach a little girl? Much less have her seated next to her peers?"

The woman sat up, not letting the headmaster even open his mouth to speak. "You are purposely forgetting the fact that she is one of _them_. You know how they are meant to be treated. It is the law, and by the look of your actions, you are at the edge of crossing that fine line of treason."

"Hisamatsu-san," The headmaster stopped her before dropping that usual smile of his. "I mean you no disrespect when I say this, but this is a 'mixed' school. I thought you were aware of that fact when you signed your child here, _second_ highest ranked school, one of _three_ mixed schools in the entire district. Do not forget the fact that the highest ranking school is _not_ mixed and completely prevents the intrusion of Nefas. I recommend this fact to be upheld in your argument."

She pursed her lips, "That does not mean–"

"If I may." Hiyama interrupted, politely dipping his head towards his superior. "Will you give me the reason as to why your son is here in the first place? The son of the commissioner-general of Epsilon deserves to be placed in the highest ranking school, the best of the best, not the second."

"That is not only out of line, Hiyama Kiyoteru, that could also–"

"Please, answer the question, Hisamatsu-san. Hiyama is known for his honest attitude. I'm sure he didn't mean any offense."

The beautiful woman lost her composure for a moment, but it was brought back in the next. She coldly glanced at the teacher, uncrossing her legs and giving the perfect posture of a refined lady. Her long, black hair barely covered the corner of her right eye, something that indicated where her son's current hairstyle came from.

She folded her hands as she answered in that low, charismatic voice of hers. "My husband recommended Daichi to be placed in this school specifically for the reason of his own position. He claimed that his only son and heir should grow accustomed to the presence of our enemies. We shouldn't fear monsters. It would be utterly shameful when our true purpose is to hunt and destroy them.

_"They_ should fear us."

Hiyama was silent. The only sound in the room was the vague sound of the children and even that was not welcomed.

It was uncanny. The looks they were giving him. Hiyama wasn't sure how to respond to that and based on their own silence, they didn't know either. It was just an unspoken rule from the adults, and they were dancing on the edge, practically dancing on it when the wife of the general quoted the very words of hatred. The ones that now everyone wanted to say and take pride in, the ones that would shatter an innocent civilian's soul. Not the heart, the soul: their pride, their will, their very existence.

It was something that shouldn't be said, but here they were, saying it in a primary school of future scholars.

Saying it in a school of children.

The man relished the fact that the light reflected his glasses because from that glint, it can conceal the troubled emotions stirring within. He felt almost powerless next to these figures.

The headmaster was a gentleman. He never acted out from his emotions, something that was now rare to see. He put on a mask, but it was better than nothing. The older man didn't look wise however, in fact, he just looked strategic. When he didn't give small, polite smiles in front for the school, he would give arrogant smirks. The way he put his clothes gave away his personality. Laid-back, calm, rich. Those were the words. He was someone who thought ahead, someone who thought over his words and organized his emotions in order to get what he wants. The grey hair of his wasn't lost, and he took advantage by combing it in a sophisticated way. The suit didn't come with the tie, and the lavender shirt was not buttoned at the top three.

The woman, the wife of the highest ranking chief, the mother of the heir, was the perfect lady. She was taught to be graceful, to never lose that smiling face of hers. If not smiling, indifferent, because you don't want to see a weak woman, you want to see someone strong. Her hands were far from dainty, but her overall figure can deceive that head-strong ambition of hers. The black pleated skirt and white blouse just emphasized that she meant business.

And Hiyama Kiyoteru was just a teacher. Nothing more, nothing less. A teacher of kids that are not even older than ten, yet are judged by something they can't control. They are judged the second they were born and treated as if they should be tamed. They were not children in their eyes, they were animals.

They were children who were still dependent. Children who still didn't know right from wrong. Children who still believed in the words of adults because who else would guide them?

Which one was the right one?

The woman cleared her throat. "Keep them where they should be. I do not want it near my son. Besides the law discourages relationships between monster and human. Even if we didn't have such laws, we would still discourage it, yes?"

The headmaster didn't reply. Instead, he looked at Hiyama with intense grey eyes as if he expected him to disagree.

Hiyama though, he didn't disagree.

He didn't agree either.

"There are rumors." The woman finally said, breaking the silence and ignoring their lack of response. "Two in fact. One personal, the other public. I'll start with the public one." Neither of them stopped her. "Since the beginning, we experimented on Nefas. They were never born, nor did they appear just randomly, we all know where they came from, and we are afraid that we can't destroy that place simply for the fact that we have no idea of the consequences.

"We all also know the basic characteristics of this species. Color. Abnormal colors. Their hair, their eyes, even their lack of color is not normal. Humans do not have _blue_ hair, humans do not have _silver_ eyes. We stick to the traditional colors, noting that none of them are out of the ordinary. It is normal for us to have green and blue eyes. But that is it. Hazel yes. Grey yes. But if there is someone with red eyes like a demon, you should automatically call that a predator.

"So what if they evolve? What if they start adapting to their environment? You know survival of the fittest forces things to do so." She gave a pointed look at Hiyama, blue eyes relaxing yet still maintaining that pressuring air. "What better way than to camouflage?"

Hiyama sat still. Not even the slightest movement could be detected. It was a feat, really, to actually keep this facade of his when really he only wanted to stand up and dismiss himself.

Are they really doing this?

Anyone can come in this moment. Anyone at all, even her own son, but according to her, that would just make her favor the situation even more.

The headmaster chuckled. "As expected from a lawyer."

The woman gave a stiff smile. "I'm not the best, but I am a mother."

"Would it please you if I inform you of next year's schedule? This time the king's special forces are inspecting the school early, so if they find something amiss, they will correct it for the safety of the children. Your son will highly be favored over the others, I'm sure."

This time her smile became less forceful. "I would sincerely appreciate that, thank you."

After that, she was dismissed with the best end of the spectrum. Hiyama was left alone facing the headmaster who seemed oddly pleased with the outcome as well.

Hiyama bit back his tongue. It wouldn't do good to reprimand their actions. He was out of place. He didn't have the proper position to say anything, much less _scold_ his superiors.

But he couldn't help but feel this bitter feeling swell in his chest.

Favoritism. That's what it was. The wife of a high ranking police officer had an advantage and she knew it. Her reasoning was only amplified because of her occupation and determination as a mother. The headmaster had many reasons to gain the benefit of having her on her good side. But really, when it all came down to it, it was eerily simple.

It all came down to bloodlines, even for the world's most despised species.

"I never told you the second rumor, did I?" Hisamatsu said, opening the door with a dissatisfied glance. The teacher didn't even bother to turn around, even if it was deemed rude and he would probably be looked down upon later on. But at that time, he didn't seem to care about what he was doing anymore, not in front of these two. Especially not in front of these two.

If Hisamatsu disapproved this, she didn't seem to show it. Instead she continued on with that same amused yet sardonic tone that grated his nerves. "It seems Daichi has a best friend. Isn't that wonderful?"

His fisted hand twitched noticeably.

As soon as the door closed, the headmaster glanced at Hiyama before looking out the closed window. The lines of sunlight escaping the blinds added to the dark edge hidden behind the headmaster's statement, but Hiyama wasn't affected in the slightest.

"She claims that she isn't the best, but she's one of the best. That's what makes her so dangerous."

Because he couldn't help but agree. That's why he didn't feel that chill that others would feel. That's why he wasn't feeling so shameful from his earlier actions.

She didn't have back-up.

The older man released a long breath, combing his gelled hair with his wrinkled yet firm fingers. "The early inspection wasn't just a suggestion of conviction, Hiyama. I'm afraid that it'll be a necessary act that we have to take. The rumors that Hisamatsu-san confirmed are crucial, something that shouldn't be left aside just for one person. It's a matter of more than a hundred students with great potential for the future generation. You understand, right?"

Hiyama didn't nod nor did he shake his head. "What's the real reason to the change of schedule?"

The man knew how the system worked. He knew, but there was something that filled his mind with dread when Brunhilda's voice suddenly started clouding his thoughts and raising his doubts. She tries to tell him something, but she couldn't afford to directly tell him. Something was preventing her, and the teacher didn't know. All he knew was that it involved Yukari.

The little girl with the strangest of quirks. The same one that Hisamatsu was wary of.

That phone call that he received last week didn't make sense.

It didn't make sense at all.

Yet...

The headmaster's voice made the feeling sink in like a bomb. "They're drawing blood this time. Apparently, they wanted it to be held at random. Isn't that great, Hiyama?" The older man said, voice drawling unnecessarily. "Not only does it protect the students, it benefits the country. Imagine all of those hidden bastards caught red-handed. Do they really think they can outsmart us?" He scoffed. "Just imagine this as the first step. Next thing, you know, we have them all captured."

"This is a mixed school, headmaster." Hiyama pointed out, eyes trying to meet his. If one would look a little closer, one would see the silent rage burning in them. "Of course there would be Nefas. What would be the point of drawing their blood as well when we could clearly–"

"Yukari, Hiyama-san." He replied, as if that answered everything. "She's a beautiful child, isn't she? Unfortunately, she's not like Kaai Yuki. And even that girl is too perfect."

Kaai Yuki. He had to mention her, didn't he? Another orphan from UTAU, brown eyes as big as Yukari's, black hair in low pigtails, sweet personality, innocent and incredibly naive yet mischievous. How that mixed together, he would never know.

She was suspected of being a Nefa, the only one in Class A, because of her origin. The fact that she lived in an orphanage with half of them being Nefas just sabotaged her reputation, yet she was still seen as the perfect, obedient child. There was even a time where troublemaker Yukari followed her example of being perfect. That period of time didn't last long though.

Whereas Yuki was more believable of being human and favored as well, no one didn't go far in their suspicion of her bloodline.

Yukari however was greatly suspected. Not only was she a colorless child, her ambition was unknown. She didn't act like a child according to the others, and her records of foster homes was a long list since day one.

"UTAU is a terrible orphanage, isn't it?" The headmaster muttered to himself. "Mixing them like that, honestly, it's like asking for the poor orphans to be abandoned. There's no way that anyone would adopt a child corrupted by a _Nefa_ of all things." He said in disgust, as if the word burned his tongue. "And they're both from it, so nothing else can be done. Thankfully we separate them and instruct the students about them, not to mention discipline those in that 'class.' This school just brings them to our expectations, and if it doesn't, I'll make sure of it."

The older man grinned, displaying another side of himself other than the composed gentleman. He didn't even notice Hiyama's silence, in fact it seemed like he reveled in it by gloating.

"Mirai no Kishi will bring out their resolve, their true concept of reality. Isn't that right, Hiyama-san?"

The man lifted his glasses. "I hope so."

"Ah yes, I forgot to mention something else before I dismiss you." He stated, gesturing Hiyama to prepare to leave as he walked over to his side. Hiyama straightened up and stood from his seat, his face the perfect definition of indifference. "It's just a reminder, in fact, I think I should announce this to the others on the day of the inspection."

The two didn't speed up nor slow down to their walk towards the door. It was just a casual and friendly walk between coworkers, something that gave Hiyama an uneasy feeling that he tried to conceal. The headmaster even opened the door for the teacher of Class B-5, smiling as if he found a gold mine.

"Students aren't the only ones being inspected."

The door silently closed behind his back.

* * *

"Kiyoteru-san?"

Hiyama held his breath at the sound of his name. It almost sounded foreign when he heard it, as if it was never meant to be there. He swore that he found himself confused when it came from the other side of the line.

"Brunhilda-san, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

The sound of her laughter and the light tone of his voice made him insecure. Was that really her? No, more like, did the woman actually laugh? It was such a hard thing to grasp that he almost stumbled in his own household, looking cautiously for any intruders or spies.

There was none of course. It was just his paranoia all over again.

"Such formalities make me think you're hiding something." She replied in a teasing tone.

"Now why would I do such a thing?" He caught himself closing the curtains. "It's rude to cover the truth from the guardian of my student."

"How is she by the way? I heard she caused quite an outburst during this _special _day."

He waited for the indignant protest of the girl. Yukari was always like that, the nosy child would sneak beside the caretaker whenever she took a phone call. She claimed she was bored and wanted to use it as well, but ever since the pranking days, she was kept under surveillance each time she used it, making it no fun for the girl.

So she chose the next best thing. Pay back mirroring, she called it. Ever since then, there was no privacy in that orphanage. Brunhilda gave up and let her stand closer to the phone while she talked, and the girl would sneak in comments. They were always inappropriate, but Hiyama knew that Brunhilda found them more amusing than disrespectful.

Especially when they were talking about her in the first place.

But this time, he didn't hear anything.

"She's different."

The line was silent before she gave him a reply in a stiff, concerned voice. "She still hasn't come out of that room."

Hiyama didn't understand.

" 'Remember what I told you.' That's what he said. And yet I failed, Kiyoteru-san, miserably so. She won't even eat in the same room as the others. She would barely say a word. What's making it worse is that she won't confide in Yuki either, and you know how she is with her. The girl's practically her sister."

He didn't understand at all.

"She's acting like a normal child."

"No. That isn't what a normal child does. A normal child would talk, maybe cry, but she's silent. _Literally_ silent. Do you know the reason why? Because she's not normal. Because, as they put it, 'she doesn't meet their standards.' Now she won't even speak because of their words. You see it, don't you? Surely someone of your intelligence can see what's happening, Kiyoteru-san?"

"She's talking." He commented weakly.

Really, it didn't make sense.

"No. She's not." She argued sternly. "She's not talking, Kiyoteru-san."

He numbly sat on his couch, eyes drooping, head falling. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees to support his upper body. The sting of his headache was getting worse, but it wasn't because of the stress. Or maybe it was and he was just blaming it on something else again.

He reached for the remote.

"Did you talk to her like I requested?"

He wanted to groan when the static of the television attacked his eardrums and blurry sight. "I apologize, but I didn't get anything but typical offers. She just wanted to draw with me, and it seems she doesn't want to talk about the orphanage. She changes the subject as soon as it comes."

"What else?"

He pushed the button.

"Well, she confessed on going to the other side of the playground again."

"–A-hah! Another mystery solved if I do say so–"

Click.

"Naturally! Because I am..."

"–it matter?"

"Now releasing her new song: Love is War!"

Despite all the distractions, Hiyama knew what she asked. "That area is strictly off limits."

"..."

"I know how you feel, Brunhilda-san, but that's just how the system works. Not only is it confidential, it's dangerous. A little girl like her shouldn't take one step on that land even if it is for the request of her friend."

"I didn't ask about whether it was confidential." She snapped. "I asked if it was fair. Give it some reason. The girl is innocent."

"The place is terrible. Causalities _everywhere_. Who knew these creatures would go so far to even hurt their own kind?"

"You don't get it..." Brunhilda whispered gently. "Do you?"

Hiyama massaged his temples, looking at the screen with apprehension.

A man showed up with a microphone in hand. Half of the screen split up to display a woman with the background of debris.

"What's your analysis?"

"Analysis? You don't even need one! I'm honestly terrified to even _be_ here!"

"What is she saying?"

Hiyama saw the pieces of flesh under the destroyed parts of a plane. He intently watched the screen as the cameras closed in on the disaster. He silently wondered how exactly they were going to do it...

"She asked about the purpose of our history class. I didn't think she would ask that kind of question, it makes me realize that she really is a child, huh?"

"Seems like the rumors are true. They are starting to advance to offense, even lowering themselves into such ruthless methods."

"You know, if they're trying to convince us that they aren't monsters... It isn't really working, is it?"

...to switch their views...

"She was getting uncomfortable when the parents basically intimidated her into not speaking, so maybe she's trying to put up a brave front."

Brunhilda made a sound of disagreement. "Focus on the words, not the actions."

"So give me numbers! Details! We all deserve to know. This concerns our safety, the reason behind our choices. What have they done?"

The woman's face lost her smile when he asked this. Nonetheless, she reported her findings, her face losing color with each word.

"...involved a train, a bus, and a plane. As for casualties: 12,315 injured, 478 dead. All innocent..."

...to blame it on _them_...

"What did she say?"

Hiyama's brown eyes narrowed when he saw their broken bodies. Their skin was torn apart, burnt, and completely irreparable. He could almost see the white skull showing up from a child's head. The sight sickened him, the thought of showing this to the public eye made him swallow the bile in his throat.

...to feel nothing from what they've done...

"...as for what caused all of this–"

But Hiyama couldn't bring himself to hate them. Because deep down, he knew what this was about. He knew, but he couldn't bring himself to accept.

Then there was 'her.' Why was she like this? Why did it _suddenly _make sense?

"–the sudden ignition of bombs. Three of them."

Hiyama dropped the remote and buried his face in his hand, trembling when he heard the faint sound of giggling.

"She kept saying 'boom'."

* * *

_...what's the lesson..._

* * *

**A/N: **Names are referred to as such: Last First. The honorifics: **-chan** is generally used for things the speaker finds endearing, like children, family, close friends, cute things, etc. **-sensei **or just **Sensei** alone, is a term used for teachers, instructors, etc. I think I already covered the others in the last chapter, if not, then oh well -.-

Yes, I know, I kept saying Kiyoteru as Hiyama, I assure you I know which is his first and last name, but that's how they all see him there, so I want you guys to see it in their perspective. You can't just automatically call them by their first name, that's just rude. Yukari, however, is an exception, considering she's an orphan and doesn't officially have a last name(yet). Why does Yuki have one even though she's an orphan? Well you just have to wait and see :}

So how was the perspective of her teacher? How one acts at school and at home is different for all of us, but did Yukari act suspicious to you guys? Or was she just her witty cute self again? Hmm...

If you have any questions and/or pet peeves in my story so far or _if your just a really awesome person to comment_, please review or PM me. Thank you :D


	4. Lesson III

**Disclaimer**: This story is inspired by everything that I've seen, read, or heard of [*Including: books, anime, movies, songs, people, and history] But this is all _fiction_, hence why this is on this site. All ideas do not belong to me. Vocaloid does not belong to me. However, the plot is purely mine.

*Spot the references ;)

**Warnings: **This story will carry future mature themes, however I will warn my readers when that chapter comes. If they are not comfortable with gore, as seen with the prologue, please read another story because this will be full of it. Another warning will be that this story is not _completely_ centered around Vocaloid. This is a crossover of Original characters/world AND Vocaloid. Please keep in mind that it's not based on an OC, it will _contain_ OCs. Big difference.

* * *

**XXX+ Lesson III +XXX**

"**_W_****i****_t_****h ****_a _****s****_m_****i****_l_****e ****_t_****h****_a_****t ****_c_****a****_n _****b****_e _****c****_o_****n****_t_****a****_g_****i****_o_****u****_s." –_Unknown**

* * *

_Mirai no Kishi._

_That was the name of their school._

_Previously it was known as Utau Elementary but ever since the reign of King Chronos, every school's name was changed._

Let it be known that the son of a general was truly the son of a general for not only his talents and unlimited potential found in the age of five, but also for the relentless urge to scrutinize every single thing around him. It was also one of those traits that his mother warned would be the death of him.

Hisamatsu Daichi wasn't one to take others' words seriously, be it his friends or his own parents, he would never trust the words of others unless he would see for himself. Many adults see this as his only flaw, a major one that would lead him to nothing but trouble. They suppose it would be too good to be true if he was just a perfect little boy, but seeing that attitude of his just made them want to protect him even more.

Daichi, of course, didn't like that. He didn't like it at all.

He was a child, he still had a mind of a child. It was easy to forget that because of his posture and intelligence and basically his overall status in school. He was even more advanced than older kids, something that would bring bitter feelings towards him.

However, that didn't stop him from satisfying his curiosity.

_Mirai no Kishi was a very known school. Unlike most schools, this one didn't have two separate branches. It was a mixed school that ranked students from most talented to the least. _

_Class A had students that were skilled in specific fields, if not, in general areas. Intelligence, agility, creativity, strength. That's what they were looking for. That was the main focus of the academy. _

Hisamatsu Daichi was a shrewd child. His intuition, his mother called it, made him see underneath the underneath. Which is why the people surrounding him in daily life was nothing but a mask to him. They would call him his friend, others would call him the brother they never had.

Their favorite words, however, just made him want to giggle like the little boy he was.

"What happened to us?"

"I thought we were close..."

"You lied to me."

But they were never anything more than just an acquaintance. It wasn't a relationship simply because there never was one. They would say... but that was the point: _they_ would say. There was never any lie. They just believed because they simply wanted something from him.

He wasn't lying. He never gave a fib in the first place.

Because, quite frankly, _he_ didn't say anything.

_Class B, C, and D were what one would call 'average.' _

_Class B was one rank lower because of the grading criteria. Whereas Class B showed prowess in the children, it wasn't as natural as the ones in Class A. It was the same as the ones in Class C, only the talent nor the skill was noted in the kids of that rank. They were just average kids, _normal_ kids. _

_Class D was, obviously, for ones below average. No skill at all was shown, in fact, it was just plain disappointing to see their progress. It was as bad as his mother had said. Of course, he expected that, considering this was just a normal elementary school. The only difference really was the ranks given. If someone showed potential, they would go up a rank. It was rare, but not impossible to go down a rank as well._

The son of a general and a lawyer was born with high expectations. He was educated in further understanding to the real world compared to his peers in his current grade. Yes, he could have skipped those grades, but that would defeat the purpose of his attendance there. His father stated, "Society isn't only taught by words." Being one who would rather take advice to those he admired -his mother was too soft on him at times- he heeded to those words in order to grow stronger.

Daichi's caretakers worried over him. Useless concern if one asked him, for he could handle it himself. He didn't need sympathy, he didn't need pity, he hated those looks, completely revolted by a glance. Daichi didn't need_ weaklings _to watch over him.

Knowledge. That was what he wanted most. Knowledge and power. Those two would make him practically invincible over the others. If he wasn't at the level he wanted, all he needed was more power. It was never enough, because to him, there was no such thing as too much of anything.

His so called peers ... they only dragged him down.

"Daichi!"

_If he were to give them the number between ten to one, in which ten would be the best of the best and one would be no progress in growth he would place them in as such: Class A = 10, Class B = 7, Class C = 5, Class D = 3, and the only ones that were not even worthy enough to be in the spectrum..._

_Class F._

The boy's face scowled at the lack of information. From what he gathered, it was only the basics and childish gossip. He honestly had no clue concerning that class.

"Daichi?"

_Class F was the lowest of the school. They were the ones who usually needed disciplining rather than teachings. They received punishments and even went as far as torture. No one has ever transferred out of that class but there are times when a student transfers _in_._

"Daichi..."

The whine in her voice almost made him snarl. He didn't though, he was above that kind of thing. Besides that girl will give up.

Everyone did.

_There are rumors that every student who transfers in Class F had colored hair, and if not colored hair then colored eyes. __The color wasn't normal. They were all colors of the rainbow, ranging from golden yellow and metallic silver to dark maroon and pitch black. It would either leave the other party blind to their neon eyes or terrified by the lack of soul in them._

"What are you reading?"

He didn't even blink when the girl invaded his personal space, smashing her cheek with his. He merely shrugged her off and continued to read off his notes, completely entranced. The words just kept repeating over and over again, like a story it described a secret, something that Daichi had to figure out on his own.

Like the curious child he was, he kept on reading, erasing his surroundings just so his concentration was solely focused on his notepad. The questions kept coming and he realized that the more he wrote, the more questions he kept asking.

What was so special about Class F?

How come he's only heard about it now?

It irritated him. The lack of knowledge wasn't something Daichi wanted. He didn't want to be an oblivious child like the others. That wasn't something he would ever forgive because no matter how many times the adults said it, the kids _do_ have a right to know.

The fact that he barely noticed that door in the corner just made the situation all the more dangerous.

Blue eyes narrowed, pages turned, and the tone of his voice revealed - "Nothing."

And that was that.

_Class F had a separate building. It was on the other side of the school playground. The building resembled a haunted house. It was creaky and smelly, and sometimes they would hear the faint sound of screaming. Worse thing of all? When you look at a window, you would see the Faceless Woman._

_The Faceless Woman-_

No, no, no! It was all wrong!

He wanted to know _more_ about the building. He wanted to know the exact reason why everyone wasn't allowed in the playground. Screaming? What was going on? Was there any more details? You can't just be vague and move on to something else!

"I've heard of her before." She commented, her voice so soft that he almost missed it.

He was an exception to that volume. Even though he acted as if she annoyed him, he took her words to heart no matter how silly she acted. He wouldn't be her best friend for nothing. So as soon as the words left her mouth, he glanced at her with those sharp blue eyes that would've made another child whimper or flinch. But she never gave a reaction, she only looked up at him with a smile.

She answered his silent question in a casual manner, swinging her legs up in the air as she did so. "It's a scary story that's like Bloody Mary, only it doesn't happen in the bathroom. And you don't call her." She added, grin forming when she caught his attention. "She calls you."

The two kids never moved from their position. Even when the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch, they didn't budge. The flat grassland surrounded by bushes was their personal spot, so no one would interrupt them. The spot behind the playground. Their own secret hideout. Without a care in the world, they laid on their stomachs, one with a notepad, the other just keeping him company.

And that's what she was doing. This albino girl who suddenly came intruding in his fourth grade class with the most irritating smile. This girl that made him frustrated every time she came through that door, acting like an entirely different person each day.

At first, he couldn't stand this girl. The one that called herself Yukari, just Yukari. It wasn't like she had a choice considering her background. She didn't even introduce herself on the first day. She only gave the class her name, a greeting, her birthplace (she didn't look like she was from England), and then went to her seat without turning back.

The days after that she was already labeled, by him and by the whole class. She was a loner, a freak. She didn't try to befriend the other girls nor did she hang out with the boys. She never talked after the introduction, not even a squeal. The fact that the teacher never called on her, almost made the whole class either forget about her or think she was mute.

All in all, she was the quiet girl in the corner of the room.

But the week after that, that was what piqued Daichi's infamous curiosity.

After the weekend, Daichi expected his classmates to brush her off, to walk right past her without a second glance. He expected another week without hearing the sound of her voice. Another week of the invisible girl who hid behind the shadow of her hair.

He expected so little.

And the fact that she didn't do any of those things when she came in through that door...

It was just one split second that time froze. As cheesy as it sounded, no it wasn't magically romantic, it was just that moment where nothing mattered anymore because the sight before your eyes, it just wasn't _normal_.

The girl in the corner transformed into something new as if a little kid dressed up a doll and dyed its hair and put drawings all over its face, only that wasn't what entirely changed.

Put the words 'quiet, meek, and no backbone' in the whiteboard, and just to make a point, write it in cursive. Then look back, make sure it's spelled correctly and looks nice. You're content with it and probably think it's not going to stay there for a long time, but long enough for everyone to see. Those words that you generously gave to the transfer student.

And suddenly, said transfer student struts in, pushing you away and throwing a bucket of paint on not only the whiteboard but in the whole room too.

Then she mocks you by writing a sloppy word that practically overpowered the neat handwriting under the paint.

'Stupid'

Just for him.

...it uncharacteristically pissed him off.

She came in through that door with her hair in a silver braid, with tiny pink flowers attached as if it was naturally growing in the knots of her hair. This hairstyle emphasized her round face, making her somewhat attractive to the male population and something to coo on for the adult population. She naturally lured the girls to her side, _giggling_ as she did so. That giggle that just didn't fit, yet it really did, confused him so much. The girl from the first week didn't so much as smile! She didn't expose herself so easily. She hid from her hair, not brush it off as an accessory!

The whole week, she giggled, she pranced, she skipped. She spoke in a smooth voice that was nowhere to be seen from the week before. She made the teachers pick on her when she practically danced on her seat. She was no longer the girl in the corner. She was the cute girl in Class B-4.

So then he wrote in this imaginary whiteboard of his, the words 'cute, giggly, and ditzy.' Just for good measure, he wrote 'after overcoming shyness.'

And again the transfer student barged right in, neatly_ erased _his work, and sniffed disapprovingly at him before writing in stiff handwriting.

'Amateur.'

Week three: she came in with glasses. The ditz was gone and replaced with an actual brain in her head as she dressed properly, walked properly, sat properly, and spoke properly. In other words: formal. She didn't cling to the other girls like she used to and when they clung to her, she brushed them off with fancy words that spelled out 'keep off.' She never once came out of the shadow of the school. The book in her hands was the only companion to her, the only thing that convinced the others that she was fine without friends, that she was fine alone. She didn't fidget like a normal nine-year-old girl. Like the girl from the second week. She never lost her composure when she was asked to present in front of the class. She didn't waver when the girls interrogated her. She never defended herself when they suddenly bullied her. All she used was the verbal strength that she carelessly threw at them. The power that made them cry without even a touch.

Yukari wasn't the girl in the corner of the room. Nor was she the cute girl in Class B-4.

They labeled her as the ice princess.

And Daichi loyally wrote the three words to describe her in the whiteboard.

'Indifferent, Intelligent, and Indefinite.'

Another version of her erased his words and gave her own with a taunting smirk on her face.

'Not good enough.'

Week four: she came in with high pigtails. Her glasses were gone. Her book was gone. Her entire personality was gone and replaced with a new one. Laughing in a grating tone. Talking in a cringing pitch. Walking in an annoying way.

He wrote 'vain, snobby, and irritating' in the last day of the week.

But the different yet same girl came into the room, her hand lazily hovering over the board as she wrote behind his last letter.

'Fool.'

He decided to keep that word.

Week five: she didn't even come through that door. Every single day, he saw her already in the classroom, drooling and smiling as she dreamed, oblivious to the lingering, curious stares directed at her slumped figure. She was never completely awake. Everyone accepted her sleeping schedule with fond exasperation as if it happened all the time.

He didn't understand.

Nonetheless, he wrote the words 'calm, soothing, and lazy.'

And again she came, sleepiness gone and replaced with a huge grin on her face. She grabbed a spray can and painted over his words with terrible handwriting without a care of her spelling, looking at him the whole time she did.

'Wrong.'

And yet she didn't spell anything wrong.

Week six: she cut her hair in which the tip of her hair reached her shoulders and nothing more. It was like she was suddenly hit by a wave of energy when she came in. The lazy girl that used to drag her feet now practically pounced on anyone and everywhere. She didn't belong with the girls. She was always with the guys, revolted by the 'boring' tea parties and confused by the looks of her 'dirty face.'

She made the boys laugh. She made the girls cringe. She made the adults scold. She made the kids respect.

And Daichi, somewhat tired, wrote the words openly just to let her see, expecting something but not quite sure what.

'Daring, spunky, and complete tomboy.'

He didn't even have the time to write anymore when frail hands grabbed his wrist, when amused smile met frown, when deep violet eyes stared at him in gentle disagreement as she suddenly shattered the whiteboard with her small fist and spelled out another word that belonged to him and him only.

'Useless.'

He grit his teeth and nearly kicked his desk when week seven came and she walked in with the most dangerous attitude yet. Baggy clothes gone, hair decorated with a purple ribbon, ferocious scowl replacing the usual cheeky grin on her lips. The tomboy disappeared. There was no playfulness only anger. Her fights now relied on brute strength rather than games. No one dared to go near her, not because of her reputation but because of the fact that she didn't walk into that room.

She didn't _walk _into that room.

The peaceful morning was shattered by the yelp and a cry of an older student of Mirai no Kishi. He was in his last year but that didn't stop Yukari from giving him a beating. He was thrown before she blessed her classmates with her appearance. First was her foot, up in the air, then came the rest of her small body, mercilessly crashing down onto the older boy's stomach. She didn't give him any time to breathe. She ignored his pained gasp and lifted him up by the collar of his shirt, shaking him as she coldly glared at his pitiful face.

"I dare you to say that again."

And she froze everything once more.

Daichi knew that he wasn't the only one.

Even after the day, after he recorded her actions of the day, she effortlessly stole attention. She was put into detention for the first time. She gracefully, casually sat on her seat, legs crossed, hands on her lap, neutral -not bored- expression on her face. She raised her chin up, showing her pride. She walked with the look of steel on her eyes. She didn't dare look like a weakling. She wasn't someone who anyone could push around. She was someone that would fall but after she dragged you with her.

It was when Daichi believed that she wasn't really any different than the ice princess from week three. He just couldn't get over the fact that she was so _similar_ to her, that this was only another version of her only with minor differences. As if the ice princess never really disappeared.

But that image was wrong. So, so wrong. The ducklings that followed her every step in the way made sure that she wasn't the ice princess. She didn't brush them off with cold words like the ice princess did. She didn't glare at anyone who stepped in her personal space. She didn't insult them to the point where the ducklings cried. Daichi couldn't find that ice princess. Instead he found a mother. The mother who gently coaxed the children to not grip as tightly, to not trip over themselves when they were so close to her, to not talk with their mouths full, and still keep a smile even if they kept doing it over and over again to the point where Daichi grew irritated just to look at them.

That was when he begin to write the word 'pushover.'

But near the end of the week, he remembered that she _wasn't _a pushover.

Mother Duckling was truly Mother Bear.

Again, she didn't look away. Again, she didn't run away. Again, she fought back. Again, she won.

Again, she let them cling to her. Again, she didn't mind. Again, she gained the most important thing needed to survive this school: Charisma.

After the revelation, he realized how powerful she really was. Because of her, he forgot everything. Because of her, he was tricked by her masquerade. Because of her, his feelings were played with. Because of her, he started to believe that word that this girl, this strong and admirable girl, gave just for him and him alone.

'Useless.'

That word haunted him for weeks.

* * *

Hisamatsu Daichi stopped observing the girl called Yukari.

The whiteboard remained blank, a reminder of a failure every time he stared at it.

He couldn't bare to look at it, yet every day he visited that state of mind because every day he had no choice but to see that girl cross through the threshold of the class in a different face. She was never the same and that's what confused him. People didn't notice or ignored the changes completely as if it was _normal_. Daichi knew normal. He also didn't find her normal. Yukari was the complete epitome of abnormal, and she bewitched the others to accept it as the norm.

But Daichi couldn't accept it. He wouldn't. Witch. He called her. She was a witch. There was no other explanation.

But he wasn't necessarily a child. And only children believed in witches.

So he stared and stared, blankly, with emotions stirring wildly with every letter.

Useless.

He decided to add in every word she called him for all seven weeks.

In seven weeks she changed seven times, she came in seven times, she intruded his mind seven times.

Seven. What was so special about the number seven?

He gave up on the seventh week. That's what was so special.

He jumped off the edge of the desk, the only one in this classroom of whiteboards, and shuffled towards the one on the front, the biggest board that he used all this time. Hesitantly, he picked up the marker and uncapped it with a careful expression on his face. And with that expression bottling in every emotion he felt because of that girl, he wrote.

'Stupid.'

With every word, he cringed. The expression faltering more and more as time ticked by.

'Amateur.'

What would his father think? The father that he believed was a hero, the one that saw Daichi as a true heir, someone who could handle anything he faced. His father gave him a task, and he failed. His father believed he could do it, yet he didn't. His father told him to take his lectures to heart, but he had forgotten.

'Not good enough.'

Yukari. Only her name was definite. But the rest? It just made him want to trash this very room.

'Fool.'

He _was_ a fool. What she kept telling him...was that what she meant? All of these words that she generously gave, was she predicting what he was going to become in the future?

It was like the future was already decided for him.

And it made him want to puke.

'Wrong.'

This is why he should quit. All of these wrong answers, the ones that she purposely gave, it frustrated him. There was never a right answer! He never stood a chance! He hated that girl. He hated her so much that he blindly wrote that word relentlessly until he had no more space to write.

'...UselessUselessUselessUselessUseless...'

This was why he decided to leave this room. Stepping back, he realized this was pitiful. He was better than this. He shouldn't have to wallow in misery because of that troublesome girl.

Troublesome. That's what she was.

He decided that that was all he would write about her. That this word was the only worthy gift for him to give her.

Hisamatsu Daichi never wrote on that whiteboard ever again.

Yukari never came in to erase it either.

* * *

Sharp blue eyes met round violet eyes, the latter narrowing after he caught her stare.

"V.O.C.A. These initials represent an important alliance set up since the nineteenth century. It is also an introduction to our next lesson: The Revolution of..."

The teacher's voice was pale in comparison to the look that she gave him. It wasn't a look that he was familiar with. In fact, he didn't think he received that look in his entire life. All he did was turn his head just a bit and there she was. It wasn't like he meant to stare at her.

So why did she frown in distaste?

"This is a significant event that all fourth years are required to learn. You must never forget this event. This will be vital to your future. Take out your notebooks..."

Daichi ignored her, ignored the space in his left and took notes of the lesson. He wasn't supposed to mind her existence. He had to remind himself that she wasn't important. Her future wasn't important. Her existence wasn't important.

Knowledge about her was a waste of time.

"...similar to a monarchy, which I hope you remember this, is when a king and queen rule a government, and in turn rule society."

A kid raised his hand, yet he spoke up before the teacher called on him. "Like King Chronos and Queen Leia?"

The teacher nodded patiently and smiled. "Yes, exactly like them."

He could still feel her stare at the side of his face as he wrote on his notebook. Daichi cursed himself for not having his fringe on the other side of his face. At least he can block the other students from his view. Still, Yukari's stare was unnerving. It was like she didn't even blink.

Why was she doing that?

He hasn't given her a reason to stare. Besides, when he observed her, she didn't even notice. If she did, she paid no mind to it. Now it's been weeks since he observed her, she shouldn't suspect him now, now could she?

It just wouldn't make sense.

"...can be autocracy, but the main idea is that this kind of ruler does not care for his or her people. Their needs are irrelevant. The only thing a tyrant is focused on is power. So you could begin to see the type of society our empire used to be. Can anyone give me an idea?"

Daichi unconsciously raised his hand, along with a few other students. Thankfully, the teacher picked him first. He noted the gleam in her eyes when she did.

It was like none of the others mattered.

As he spoke, he couldn't help the slight pride swelling up in his chest. "There was no freedom of anything. Everyone was restricted in all areas. The laws were exaggerated and the punishments severe. The people were most likely living in fear of their king and queen."

"Correct." The teacher nodded. "One problem though. There was either one king or one queen, never 'and.' The only exception was the yellow empire, presently known as Crypton. The other empires were also renamed and crowned two rulers. There couldn't be any security of the people's rights if there was only one ruler."

All day he ignored the girl in his left, captivated by the history lesson. It was about the creation of their empire, the creation of his home. The very home that he would dutifully protect after his father's resignation _and_ recognition. He needed to know all about this empire. Crypton was the precious thing that he had to protect. The one that he would give his life to.

His father would be proud of his heir.

He would make sure of it.

But because of his daze, he didn't notice one important thing. He disregarded his intuition, disregarded his observation skills, and completely missed the look on the girl's face as the lesson went on.

He didn't notice the fury behind her violet eyes.

* * *

It was the thirteenth week when it happened.

The day that they came face to face.

It was pure coincidence, he repeated in his head. Pure coincidence that she bumped into him two hours after school ended. Two hours in which the school building was void of students. Two hours in which all parents dragged their kids away from the playground. Everyone should've gone home by this time, enjoying themselves like pigs rolling on mud.

Pure coincidence.

He knew that was just karma mocking him in the worst way possible.

"Hisamatsu." She stated rather than called, planting a hand on her hip and leaning on one leg. It was so casual, the way she said his name. Like it was the most normal thing in the world to face someone who was observing you like a lab rat. There was no shock in her tone nor was there fear. It was always one of those two when it came to him. Always. Yet strangely, she wasn't looking or speaking to him with one or the other.

"Yukari." He didn't bother to nod. His father said that he should nod to those who he respects and acknowledges, one who works their way up the top to gain that respect.

She was just someone who didn't exist to him.

Her purple eyes skimmed his figure for a moment before a sneer came on her face. "That's Yukari-_sama _to you, stalker."

He was positive that she didn't know the exact meaning of the word, but he didn't bother to comment. "Nonsense. There is no point in calling you anything else since all I've heard about you was a girl clinging to every boy she sees. That's just disgusting."

She frowned. "But I'm just showing them that I love them."

"Love them?" He asked blankly. "Is that what you're doing? Sorry, it's just that it looks like you're doing the same thing that our despicable maid did before we fired her. I didn't mean anything."

Yukari narrowed her eyes, clenching her hands with a force that turned her knuckles white. She looked like she was trying to restrain herself from punching him to the wall.

He didn't think that she would catch the meaning behind his words. Perhaps this week's version was a bit more perceptive than he thought.

"Take that back!" She spat.

Daichi didn't know what made him defy his father's teachings. But the urge to play with this girl just made him giddy inside. "What?"

She growled. "You think I'm stupid too?!"

"I never said that." He replied calmly.

"You're basically insinuating it!"

"Big words for a small girl."

"I'm the same age as you!"

There were some things that triggered Daichi's temper. Some were minor, admittedly, a bit laughable. Other things, however, crossed the line that his nine-year-old self drew. It was that line that represented so many things. Differences, boundaries, walls without doors. He prided himself of the thought that he was not like any other nine-year-old. And the mere mention of being _similar _to the average and naive caused a daunting arrow to strike him in the back.

He didn't _want _to be like them. He didn't _want_ to lose his place. He didn't want to think about the disappointment his father would give him to the thought of his son being just _one of them_. Call him conceited or arrogant, but he had a reason to be. He knew he was a prodigy. It was _expected. _

And the idea of _her_ comparing -no- _bringing _him to her_ level_. It was laughable. It was demeaning. It was the biggest insult anyone could give him and he just wouldn't allow it.

He didn't _want_ to be like her.

The thought terrified him.

"It doesn't mean anything." He coldly retorted. She was surprised. Why was she surprised? "Now, can you move? You're blocking the way."

She dumbly nodded her head, blinking at him as he went in the empty classroom. Again, he ignored her, never caring if she stayed in that same spot or if she left home already. The only thing on his mind was the repetitive chores in his mental list. Organize shelf. Put chairs on desks. Dust the chalkboard. Sweep the floor. Clean the window. Put chairs back down. Put everything away.

He was barely dusting the erasers of the chalkboard when he heard the faint giggling beside the door. He turned his head, half of his body out of the window, the other half planted inside. He was mildly suspicious of the way the albino girl was laughing. She muffled her giggles in a poor way, escaping the spaces between her fingers, laughing in disbelief as if she finally figured out a mystery and was shocked by the way it was obviously hinted.

Annoyed, he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to drown out the mocking giggles by focusing on his current task.

It didn't work. It couldn't.

Because that only made her start talking in that irritating tone.

"Unbelievable." She sighed, regaining her breath after her fit. "Unbelievable."

"What?" He muttered, the words coming out without him knowing.

Yukari shook her head. "Nothing." An amused smile formed as she repeated, "Nothing."

He didn't bother to respond. It would only give her satisfaction.

She took this in happily, walking into the room with a skip in her step. Once she made herself comfortable at the top of an empty desk, she let herself watch him as if he was the most interesting thing in the world. Every movement was caught in her vision. Nothing distracted her. It felt like she didn't even blink.

He wanted to punch himself for even thinking that she _unnerved_ him.

"It's kind of funny." She suddenly started. He didn't pause. "Hisamatsu Daichi, son of a lawyer and the general of Epsilon. Silky black, somewhat fluffy, hair that has a probability of being flatter as you grow older and blue eyes that can compare to a sapphire. You have long bangs that cover one of those eyes. The reason is uncertain for you aren't blind nor ugly in that side, so the only assumption is style. Your strengths are intelligence, creativity, and agility. There is no doubt that you will gain muscle." She teased, leaning back with her hands keeping her upright.

He flipped the erasers for good measure, white dust fading in front of him. He slowly stood up straight and placed them on the edge of the chalkboard. His eyes never darted towards the other living being in the room. Yet...it was difficult to ignore.

"You know, your mother can be considered a specialist. So if you think about it, it fits you if you grow up to be a scientist." She mused. "It's just _right_."

"What do you want?" He curtly asked before she said more.

She merely smiled. "Isn't that the wrong question?"

He stared at her with dead eyes. "Why...are you here?"

She tilted her head before sliding down on her feet. Her feet lightly tapped the ground, as graceful as a cat, no sound, just the slight tap of the ground. Then, she clasped her hands behind her back, swinging ever so innocently that he might've thought she was just another one of those girls. Without a second thought, he would've labeled her as such.

Seeing her like this reminded him of the queen she was weeks ago. No, it didn't remind him of just her. She reminded him of the meek girl, ice princess, snobby brat, her, her, _her, her, and her_.

Get rid of those thoughts!

He couldn't afford to lose.

That smile transformed into something intimidating. As if she was reading his thoughts that very second. She leaned closer to him, violet clashing with blue.

He forgot to take note of how small she was.

"You interested me, Hisamatsu. I've done the same thing you have done, and I couldn't help but wonder why _you_ are here. Second place. Mirai no Kishi. Second place. Class B. Why do that when you could do so much more? There were, and still are, geniuses that go beyond Class A, yet you're here, disregarding the opportunities handed to you with a silver platter.

"You could do so much more, Daichi-kun. All you have to do is defy."

Crack.

A light flickered until its power ran out.

Yukari leaned her head back, curiously staring at the ceiling as if it would morph into a monster the next second. Long ticks of the clock loudly drawled into his ear. He wanted to cringe at the sound. It was numbing him, making him paralyzed at the spot.

He didn't understand.

"I don't understand you." Yukari said, still staring at the broken light. He nearly jumped at those words. Why was she taking those words away from his mind? How dare she intrude in his thoughts again.

"Why?" She breathed, dropping her head. "You interested me. But then you stepped back. And that's enough to make a difference."

She walked away with one last word, crushing something inside of him.

The worst part was...he didn't even know what that something was.

"Quitter."

He didn't bother to reply.

There was no reason to.

* * *

"Now rather than have an heir for the throne based on blood, the King and Queen are responsible of choosing the heir based on merit. There is a reason for that." The teacher said, turning her back so she could write on the chalkboard. She drew a pyramid, creating sections, a letter for each box. On the top, she wrote the letter K; she tapped it with the tip of the chalk. "This is the social pyramid of Crypton. Naturally the King and Queen are at the top, for they are the ones who control this entire empire from Britain to Japan."

Daichi scribbled the rest of the letters in his notebook before she went on. This was already basic to him. He didn't need to be taught a second time.

E

"The next level would be the legendary military division, Epsilon." She cast a glance towards his direction. "They are the ones who protect this nation to their best abilities. Bodyguards to our rulers. Guardians of our home. They protect Crypton as much as the royal family."

He noticed a slight movement from his left. But when he turned his head, she didn't make an indication of it. She only sat patiently, eyes half-lidded yet posture attentive. Her expression revealed nothing. Her body language though, said everything. It was like she was ready to bolt, and the teacher wouldn't notice because she was half hidden from her desk.

How strange.

He shook away those thoughts and focused on the next letter.

G

"Genesis is a branch only for the top scientists. Even though they are on par with Epsilon in terms of power, they are not as trusted simply for the reason of their work. Now despite their pure intentions, it is just for precautions. This leads to the concept of a scientist rarely or never taking the place as our ruler."

A kid raised his hand. "So they can be our enemies?"

The teacher frantically shook her head as if the idea terrified her. "No! No, no, no. It's just that Epsilon is a very trustworthy organization. See, they can be your friends without you even realizing it _and _be the closest to the King himself. Genesis is only a second choice. It's only because of certain ...circumstances... that their position is" She looked conflicted for a second before she chose the word. "deadly."

Yukari quickly brought her arms towards herself, holding onto her arms almost as if she was trying to curl herself into a ball. He would've missed it if he wasn't paying attention. That panicked look on her eyes. The way she dug her nails into her arms, leaving crescent moons.

Was this part of her mask? He wasn't so sure. This time she looked so...so _real_.

"...the same?"

He was looking at a cornered animal.

"Not quite..."

No, now she was changing again. Those violet eyes glinted, turning into slits as the teacher spoke. And as if the teacher noticed, she stuttered, shivering out of nowhere and slowing down her speech as her eyes roamed the room.

"...they're more..."

Older eyes spot the eyes of a rabid wolf.

"Vulnerable." The woman lowered in a trance-like tone.

The silence was deafening. It was when Daichi looked between the two when he found the others having the same albeit different version of Yukari's reaction. The girl in the front corner with metallic eyes and short black hair, Haine Lin, was looking down. He could barely see them, her bangs overshadowing her eyes, but since he sat in the back, he saw it.

Cloudy. That's what they were. With something so bitter and aloof, that it made him shiver even if that stare was directed at no one.

And then there was another girl. Stranger hair. Red as dark as blood. Pigtails twirling in curls. There was usually a carefree smile on Kasane Teto's face, but today it wasn't there. Not even a trail. All he saw was that same panicked look in her eyes that he saw in Yukari's only a little more...accepting.

She bit her lips to the point where he was surprised they didn't bleed. She twisted her wrists, played with her fingers, twisted, play, and the occasional pulling of hair. It was obvious she was nervous, but he was confused on why.

What was the reason why.

Why they all look liked animals in his eyes.

Even the girl in his left. The one still staring at the teacher with accusing eyes.

Accusing her of what?

He didn't know.

Daichi didn't know. And he couldn't accept that.

So he raised his hand, stiffly yet calmly and asked his fourth-grade teacher a question despite not paying attention to what she was saying. "Why would they be vulnerable? Shouldn't they have similar fighting experience considering they're in charge of experimentation. I mean, it would be stupid not to, right? Considering anything can go wrong."

He honestly never felt so confused in all of his seven years.

The teacher seemed to wake up from that horrifying daze of hers. It was a painfully slow movement as she turned her head towards his direction. "It would seem logical, wouldn't it?" Finally, she noticed the other two girls. "Unfortunately, their training is at a minimum. They aren't fit for the battlefield, we leave that to Epsilon."

He kept looking at her from his peripheral vision. He couldn't afford to lose sight of her. Couldn't afford to lose something when he had the hope to catch it. "What if they're too late?"

The woman giggled, amusement replacing the quiver in her tone. It was like just the thought of the organization made her fears go away. "No, Hisamatsu-kun. It's unlikely that'll happen in real life. See, there's a secret about Epsilon. They're like the superheroes we watch in cartoons."

He watched and watched, not listening to a single word the woman said. He didn't give any thought to the next words. All he was looking for, was a reaction. A reaction that shouldn't have confused him so much. A reaction that made him want to remove that look in her eyes.

But it never left. It only grew worse and worse, piling up with the future words of their teacher. She was still looking up. Still accusing the teacher as if she did something unforgivable. Her pale arms under the desk twitched, moving and moving, accidentally hitting the desk, legs swinging faster and faster.

Because of her, he didn't notice the other two girls. Because of her, he didn't realize what the teacher said until she started muttering under her breath.

"They're always here."

Demonic wings fluttered in the room and the glass windows shattered.

* * *

"You're different again."

"I said I would be."

"The only time you warned me. A little too late for that, don't you think?"

"It's funnier to see you figure it out."

Daichi huffed, skimming the contents of the page before closing it. There wasn't anything important there. It was just a rumor anyway. He rolled onto his back and mused out loud, remembering fourth grade as if it only happened yesterday. "Remember last year?"

"I do, stalker."

He laughed. "Glad you remember, matryoshka."

"Daichi-kun, are you perhaps complimenting me?"

"What the- No! Never!"

"Those dolls are adorable though. So therefore, I'm adorable. Awe! Daichi's so sweet!"

"Annoying."

"Daichi-kun, you think everything's annoying."

He clamped a hand over her mouth, glaring at her only to receive a shameless grin. "Te-"

"The Faceless Woman is only a scary legend." She softly mumbled under his hand. Startled, he let go, tilting his head in curiosity. "I wouldn't be your best friend if I didn't know when you're in scientist mode."

He flinched at those words. She obliviously kept looking up, playing with his hands with hers as she continued to tell him a story.

"If you look at a window long enough, in a blink of an eye, a figure would appear. It would be foggy yet clear enough to see when her hand would touch it and you would see the lines of blood on her hand. They call her the Faceless Woman because she wore a white mask over her mouth and over her nose, but no one dared to look up any further because they feared they wouldn't see her eyes."

Palm touching palm. It was like she was comparing their hands, checking if they were the same. Eyes downcast as if she realized something just by looking at them. She slid her hands up again, tipping his fingers back playfully.

"People dared to go to the other side of the playground just to see the Faceless Woman. But no one ever had the guts to go in the building. And the dare wouldn't really be called a dare since it wouldn't make much of a difference anyways. Some of the kids in Class B to D, even A, were forced to go play in that side of the playground during recess."

And there it was again. It came all the way to the end of his fifth year in Mirai no Kishi, coming back to haunt him since his fourth year.

It was the way her eyes glazed, the way she lost the grip on his hand, the way she suddenly reached up, arm raised to reach the cloudless sky. He grabbed her hand, bringing her back and grimaced as she turned to look at him in surprise.

"Thoughts?" He was never good at this. That was always her role even in different personas, did she succeed in comforting him.

But she still smiled in understanding. That unreadable look was still there, but she tried and that was enough. She sat up and grabbed their things, snatching his notebook just to spite him. He let her, of course, because for some reason, that confusing look on her face made him want to treat her in a gentler way.

As if he would lose that motivation all over again.

She nervously smiled. "You first."

"Teto." He answered automatically. He went on when he noticed her puzzled expression. "Kasane Teto. How the random guards took her away and all. To be honest, it creeped me out. We never saw her after that, so I thought she was probably taken to Class F."

"Oh..."

He panicked a little.

"Yukari, what's wrong?"

"I..." He squeezed her hand as they started walking towards the school building. She looked at him for a second before fumbling with soft words. "I want you to meet someone. He's very...important to me."

He lightly swung their joined hands, swerving her attention towards him. An ominous feeling shot through him, this time from one of the windows.

In two opposite directions.

He frantically looked over his shoulders, noting Yukari stiffening beside him, and brought her closer.

And that's when he saw it.

Cold blue eyes.

From the other side of the playground.

He never noticed her looking in the opposite direction, crying in fear.

_"...Some of the kids from our side of the playground had to go the other side because of the teachers. Rumors said they did something bad, so that was their punishment. Recess on the other side..."_

_"...But Class F never had recess..."_

_"They always stayed inside."_

* * *

_...what's the lesson..._

* * *

**A/N: **Final OC point of view...of the intro. There are still going to be OC/not-main-character based chapters only in different arcs. Yeah this story is going to be long...so, so long that this is barely -and still ongoing- introduction of the story. Not the plot! The Story. I hope you guys are patient, but I tried to make up for it by the length of each chapter.

Questions? Comments?


End file.
